What They Did
by Soldier78
Summary: Hiccup was just a gunsmith's apprentice with little interest in fighting a war that was said to last only three months. After the defeat at Bull Run, Virginia, President Lincoln calls for more volunteers and Hiccup now finds himself in the center of the bloodiest war ever fought on American soil as a Union soldier in the infamous Irish Brigade. T for themes/gore/swearing. H/A.
1. Prologue

**Okay, this is a project I've been slowly working on that started towards the end of last summer after taking a wonderful, but heartbreaking trip to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The concept of Hiccup in the American Civil War had bounced around in my head for a couple of years now. It was hard to conceive a plot to include the themes from How to Train Your Dragon and I'm not entirely convinced that I can connect these two different things together. So I just took some similarities, tried to apply in historically and hopefully, it'll do something good. So, the story deviates from the plot most of the time but I've snuck in a few familiar things. **

**Also, there is going to be a lot of mature themes (not exactly sexual) but this story will heavily touch on the War and the causes of War itself. Keep in mind, I am nowhere near a professional Historian but I have tried to make this as true as possible and I do have some credibility, albeit limited, because I have studied the American Civil War my entire life, I am a History major who has taken a recent course in African American History and I am fully aware that I am tackling a very touchy subject and I hope that I do not offend anyone. Nonetheless, with a lot more to learn about being a professional Historian, if I wrote something completely out of line, please alert me so. I repeat, I DO NOT MEAN TO OFFEND ANYONE! **

**With that being said, I hope you enjoy this story and please review it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and greatly appreciated as it will help me in ways to improve this story and to improve my skills as a writer in historical fiction. **

**And one last thing, with the year now 2015, At this time, 150 years ago, 1865 would mark the last year of the bloody American Civil War. **

**Happy New Years! **

**~Soldier78~**

What They Did

Summer, 1866.

Berk, New York

_**A Note from the Hero:**_

There were soldiers when I was a boy. There was the New York Militia which my father, Lt. Sean "Stoick" Haddock led a fraction of these brave men. In his free time, he'd reside in Berk, a small town just a little south from the big city. He was friends with his Sgt. Gilbert "Gobber" Belchan, a Scot and his brother-in-law, and my uncle, was 2nd Lt. Torsten "Spitelout" Jorgenson. So, I practically grew up around the military lifestyle.

Then came the Secession in 1861. I was just 18 at the time, just the right age to enlist. In the beginning, I wanted to enlist, I wanted to prove to my father that I wasn't a terrible son. I wanted to prove to him that I could become a soldier just like him. Yet, I had some doubts after the newspapers started to report heavy losses at Bull Run, Virginia and Wilson's Creek, Missouri.

My name is Henry, er, Hiccup, Haddock. Great name I know, but it isn't the worst. Some say that hideous names will ward of your enemies, like those rebels down south. Like our charming Irish demeanor wouldn't do that already. Yet, I'm not the greatest fit boy in the world either. It is also tradition, at least in this community, to call the runt of the litter, a hiccup, and…I guess that's what I kind of am, or was at the time. No one thought that I'd become a soldier, nonetheless, an officer by the end of the war.

But it did happen, and it's a story that I would like to share whether it is just a curious descendent of mine or some American Civil War enthusiast who reads this work.

I guess the good place to start is putting it in the context of the time.

After seven southern states, beginning with South Carolina in December, 1860, seceded from the United States to become their own government, things grew much more intense between the two governments. The South declared themselves in a new nation after President-elect, Abraham Lincoln, won the 1860 National Election, the south said that Lincoln was a tyrant because he spoke out against slavery. The northern states were trying to prevent the expansion of Slavery, a sickening practice that, in hindsight, is the only difference between the Union and the Confederacy.

By April of that same year, a total of eleven states made up the Confederate States of America, all slave states. Clearly, that angered us and the United States Government did not recognize the new nation. And so, on April, 12th, 1861, a prompted Confederate garrison fired upon our flag at Ft. Sumter, beginning what would be a horribly, bloody four years that touched every single one of us whether we were Union or Confederate.

Now, it is September, 1861, Lincoln has issued a call for more volunteers after the failure at Bull Run, reports of casualties count at least over 4,000. No other battle, this civil war or past engagements, exceeded this mark. Recruitments stations are popping up like rabbits in nearly every town and city, men are rushing to join the ranks, to fight for the cause, to preserve the Union! And, for some of us, also to emancipate the slaves.

After Ft. Sumter, Dad was serviced to Washington with the New York Militia. They saw action at Bull Run. It seems that Bull Run quashed the idea that this rebellion wasn't going to be a short three-month confrontation, at least in the North. Dad's back now with intentions to enlist in the Regular Army. Many of the boys from the New York Militia are re-enlisting into Federal regiments, one of them would be the 69th New York, my unit.

Even in Berk, boys from all over flooded the station and signed up. They hopped on horse-drawn carts, waving to the women and children they're leaving behind, waving their hats in the air with whooping pride as they begun the road to become soldiers. It grieves me to think about that happy day when hundreds of boys flocked the stations, only to have so few return to their home after their papers were done.

So, with now caught up to the moment of my enlistment, here begins my own recollection of an adventure that taught me many things about becoming a man but also, taught me about the true horrors of war. Even General William T. Sherman had said "War, at best, is barbarism."

It was. It is.

This is the story of becoming a soldier, the Hard Way.


	2. September, 1861

What They Did

September, 1861.

Berk, New York.

_Bang!_

"Alright boys, look I got me one!"

Hiccup Haddock watched his burly cousin toss the rifle into his other hand as went to pick up his latest prize. Samuel Jorgenson lifted the dead wild turkey to prove his skills as a hunter to the group of friends. There was little enthusiasm coming from the gang but Samuel, Snotlout, just waved his dead bird around before shoving it into Henry, Hiccup's, flat chest.

"Carry this, cuz." Snotlout ordered as his eyes fell upon a certain blonde girl who always tagged along on these hunting endeavors. She had a rifle in her hand, not making any sort of eye contact with the boastful Jorgenson. "Hey, Babe, just proves that I'm going to provide for you."

Henry felt a twinge of jealousy as he watched the advances, even though they were meek and unimpressive to the girl, Astrid Hofferson, Snotlout desperately made. Hiccup sighed, saddened, like every day, that Astrid was promised to his thick-headed cousin and also sad that he couldn't get Astrid to look his way, just one small glance.

"Why am I always carrying your game, Snotlout?" Hiccup had dared asked without second-thinking it.

"Because, that's what you're good at." Snotlout brushed off with a snarky smirk. Hiccup only glowered at him.

"So suddenly, I'm some sort of meat locker?" Hiccup sarcastically growled.

"Exactly!"

The rest laughed, though Hiccup noticed that Astrid hadn't. She merely checked her rifle and started to walk, as if leading the gang to their next target.

Hiccup followed dutifully behind, carrying the bloody, dead turkey in one hand as he carried his own rifle in another.

"So, there's talk of recruitment." Snotlout said as they ventured further in the New York foliage. "Comin' in tomorrow, I'm gonna sign me up, be the first one in uniform."

He started to reload his rifle.

"What 'bouts ya, Tuff? Gonna join the fight?" The boy had asked his friend.

"Sure, gives me somethin' to do." Timothy, Tuffnut, Thorsten shrugged. He was tall and lanky but had a decent aim with his gun and had an appreciation for destruction of some degree. He turned to Finlay, Fishlegs, Ingerman. "You, Fish?"

"I dunno, Da needs me home to mind the farm." Fishlegs said, nervously scratching his cheek. He was big, robust and a bit of a chatterbox. Hiccup knew he wouldn't be asked so he minded his own business. Until Fishlegs noticed him, "How about you, Hiccup?"

Hiccup was about to answer but Snotlout interrupted with a howling laughter. Tuffnut even chuckled a bit.

"Oh please, Hiccup the Useless…a soldier?!" Snotlout hooted. "That's a good one, Fish!"

Hiccup frowned, though unmoved by Snotlout's rude behavior. He, however, glanced up at Astrid who was only reloading her own gun before making eye contact with Hiccup, who immediately bowed his head in sheepish embarrassment.

"He'd be the first one killed. No wait, he'd kill himself just trying to load his weapon!" Snotlout continued to mock. The laughter continued and they were off again, still humored by Snotlout's 'jokes'. Hiccup just continued to march on as if he wasn't the subject of mockery.

00000

Lt. Stoick 'The Vast' Haddock, on horseback, rode right up to the town's saloon, the Great Hall, and dismounted in front of it. He sighed, tired from a long day of riding, tied his horse up to the post and took off his hat. He entered the bar and nodded to the bartender.

"Bottle of Mead." He requested as he sat down next to another customer. The bartender came with a bottle and a cup, Stoick placed his hat on the table and uncorked his beverage.

"A bottle, eh Stoick?" The rough, Scottish brogue of his best friend, a Scot. Gilbert "Gobber" Belchan, was the local gunsmith and the mentor to the Lt.'s son in the craft. "Mus' ta been a rough'un fer yeh."

"Yeh have no idea." Stoick sniffed and took a gulp of his liquor. "Jus' got back from the City. They want to transfer me to 'nother battalion."

Gobber looked at his dear friend with concern.

"Yeh need a helpin' han' then?" Gobber inquired. In addition to a gunsmith, Gobber was one of the Sergeants in the militia.

"No," Stoick sniffed again, uncorking his bottle and pouring another glass of mead. "I need yeh t'stay an' train the new recruits."

"Oh excellent," Gobber drawled, bringing his cup to his mouth. "While I'm at t'camp, 'Enry can co'er the store, melting steel, metal projectiles, gun powder…what could possibly go wrong?"

Stoick sighed.

"Wha' am I gonna do wit' 'im Gobber?" Stoick asked, forlornly.

"Put 'im in trainin' wit' the o'ers." Gobber suggested.

"He'll be killed from the first shot from the Rebs." Stoick refused, hotly. Gobber only stared at his torn companion.

"'e's a decent gunsmith." Gobber responded, despite his earlier qualms about leaving the business attended by Stoick's scrawny son. "The men'll need a good gunsmith to repair their weapons."

"He has the attention span o' a sparrow, he barely listens…I take 'im fishin' an' he goes huntin'…fer Ghosts!"

"Ghosts exist!" Gobber refuted sharply. "They mostly like breathin' lasses wit' brown 'air…wha's wit' tha'?"

"Since the time he could crawl, he's always been…different." Stoick exhaled as he sat back in his chair.

"Stoick," Gobber said, serious now. "The lad's 18, yeh can' do much o' anythin' to stop 'im now. Yeh can' stop 'im, Stoick, yeh can only prepare 'im. Let 'im enlist."

And so, Lt. Stoick "the Vast" Haddock looked at his faithful friend and Sgt. Gilbert "Gobber" Belchan and raised his glass, conceding that the old blonde coot was right.

00000

Hiccup entered the modest home and was about to go upstairs when he heard his father call his name. Stoick was there, stoking the flames of the fire and Hiccup walked backwards down the steps he had already tromped up on.

"Dad?" He asked, prepared for some sort of lecture about how he messed up today. Did he mess up? Or was it yesterday that he broke the hatchet?

"Son, we need t'talk." Stoick announced as he put the poker aside. Hiccup looked at him with a careful eye, nervous about his father's announcement, whatever it was. Stoick looked at him and stood up. "Yer 18, now an'…I think its time yeh enlist."

When Hiccup was a little boy, he wanted to be like his father. He wanted to be a soldier. Stoick "the Vast" Haddock was a stubborn, formidable adversary on the battlefield, hardly ran from a fight. Recently, Stoick led his unit own into Bull Run, Virginia. The New York State Militia had been sent to Washington shortly after the first fight at Ft. Sumter in Charleston Harbor, South Carolina. They were slate for 90-days service. The militia was engaged at Bull Run, or First Manassas. A Confederate victory, and to that date, the bloodiest battle ever fought on American Soil. It was this battle that people were beginning to think different about the longevity of this conflict. This war, initially predicted to be a three-month skirmish, was now looking like to be an all-out war and so, President Lincoln called out for more volunteers.

Now, Hiccup had his hesitations about joining. Already, the Union Army had been badly defeated at Bull Run and Wilson's Creek, staggering losses plagued their ranks. They really didn't need a scrawny guy who could barely shoot with two eyes open in that service. He kept silent about these thoughts as they were unfavorable in public. Berk was extremely patriotic, just like the rest of New York. If you had any hesitation about joining the fight, you'd be named a Copperhead and be tormented every day. Like Hiccup needed any more grief on his small shoulders.

Yet, once his father uttered the words 'enlist', Hiccup felt internal war inside his pathetic body.

"E-enlist?" He stammered. "Dad, I-"

"Son, this is wha' yeh've always wan'ed."

"Yes but…we have enough soldiers, but do we have enough…gunsmiths or small-home repair men as the others go off to war?" Hiccup suggested, meekly. Stoick only looked at his son, unamused. "Dad, I don't wanna fight."

Stoick only laughed.

"O' course yeh do,"

"No Dad, I'm extra sure that I don't." Hiccup replied, flatly. Stoick turned to the rifle resting just above the hearth, on two curved hooks. He picked it up and practically shoved it into Hiccup's lithe arms. He nearly staggered from the added weight.

"Yeh'll need this." Stoick said. Hiccup held onto the gun with both hands, steadying himself.

"Dad, I don't want to fight." Hiccup repeated, now more sure of himself. Stoick only glared at his son, his eyes stony and very intimadting. It made Hiccup shrink and bunch up his shoulders.

"It's time Hiccup,"

"Can you not hear me?"

"This is serious, son." Stoick boomed, gruff and commanding. He looked at Hiccup, picked up the rifle with one steady hand. "When yeh carry this rifle, yeh carry all o' us with yeh."

The rifle was shoved back into Hiccup's arms.

"Yeh will join Gobber's company, yeh will become a soldier, yeh will learn 'ow to shoot a gun an' yeh will fight fer our cause." Stoick stated firmly as if it was a mantra. He gestured his thick arms at his son. "No more o'…this."

Deadpanned, Hiccup lowered the rifle in one hand and rolled his eyes.

"You just gestured to all of me." He noticed his father beginning to put on his uniform. He raised a brow and questioned him. "And…what about you?"

Stoick sighed.

"I 'ave o'er business, son." Stoick said as he began to put on his uniform. "I've been promoted t'Captain."

"Wow, congratulations, Dad." Hiccup said, his tone still dripping with disdain. Stoick finished buttoning his overcoat which still had the Lt. badges sewn on top of his shoulders. He clipped his belt which had his sword attached and he picked up his hat from the table.

"Now, do we 'ave a deal?" The older man asked. Hiccup sighed, knowing there was absolutely no way he could get out of it.

"Deal." He accepted, glumly. Stoick placed his cap firmly on his head.

"Right, train hard." Stoick announced. "I'll be back, probably."

"Yep, and I definitely won't be here, maybe." Hiccup exhaled, unhappily. The Lt. left the house with a loud, casual slam of the door and Hiccup immediately set the rifle down against the table and collapsed in a chair.

And he sat there, idled for an hour, in his empty home.

To be continued.

**Please, Click that Button. **


	3. Sept '61

**Next onslaught of chapters. Bear with me, there is a Toothless in this story. He'll appear sometime in the next few chapters. Thanks! You are all awesome! **

**~Soldier78~**

What They Did

Chapter 2

September, 1861

Berk, New York

Astrid Hofferson usually used hunting an as excuse to be away from the farm. Her mother was still grieving and her two little sisters were giving her a headache. Ever since her father, Alfred Hofferson, a farmer and also a part-time soldier, had left for this bloody conflict, the home life grew increasingly difficult as there was no man to tend the farm.

As the older sibling, it was Astrid's job to help her mother run it. They were doing fine of course, passing the time, talking about how Father would this that way, instead of this way. They were both eager to see him ride up on that road, safe and still in a clean, blue uniform.

Then came the great failure at Bull Run where the New York State Militia had been deployed. Lt. Stoick Haddock had arrived back in New York with orders to post recruitment notices and also, to announce the losses the militia had sustained. Pvt. Alfred had been killed in action, shot in the chest while he loaded his rifle. Stoick had saw it and said he had died honorably, doing his duty as a soldier. Just like all the 4,000 who had gave their lives that day.

The news practically shook the strong foundations of the Hofferson clan. Now, her mother was grieving for the loss of her husband who was buried in a plot of land just next to their house. Her siblings, who were still too little to understand the costs of war, kept asking about Father and Astrid had suddenly been promised to Spitelout's son, Snotlout, to ensure financial stability.

_Bang!_

All while thinking up to the present, Astrid had found her target and took aim. She was always a good shot, she figured she'd be a good soldier if it wasn't for the small fact that the Federal Army refused to allow women to enlist.

She tried firing the gun, only to have the trigger stuck and the firing mechanism to malfunction.

"Oh great," She muttered as she lowered it. She inspected it and sighed. Something was definitely wrong with the mechanism. She sighed and walked over to her horse. She used one hand to mount on the horse and grabbed the reins with the same hand. Her firearm in her other hand. "Alright, Stormfly, let's get to the gunsmith."

She just hoped she had enough coin to get this thing repaired.

000000

It was Recruitment Day. The station already had the men lined up and ready, you could see Snotlout, as he promised yesterday, the first in line with Tuff and Fish behind him, eager to enlist.

Henry just casually rode passed the line, deciding to wait until the line was smaller to enlist. He dismounted from his horse in front of the guns' shop and tied his steed to the post.

"That's a good boy, Sharpshot." Hiccup patted his horse's neck as his horse drank from a provided bucket of water in front of the store. Hiccup then entered the shop and found Gobber working on his last piece of business before opening the station. "Shouldn't you be down at the station, Gobber?"

The Scot chuckled.

"Oh aye, yeh should be too." Gobber gestured to him with his prosthetic interchangeable hand. He had lost his hand in a previous engagement when Hiccup was a wee lad. His invention of interchangeable hands was revolutionary but he was one of the few who were missing a limb so it wasn't completely needed.

"Later, when there isn't much of a line." Hiccup amended, part of him badly wanted to delay Snotlout's mockery for as long as possible. As he said this, he looked at the line and spotted Snotlout in the front, looking majestic as ladies passed. Suddenly, he felt a bit frustrated. Astrid was going to marry this guy? Hiccup sighed.

"Yeh know, bein' a soldier's not tha' bad." Gobber said as he checked his handiwork with a revolver.

"I know," Hiccup sighed. Sarcastically, he decided to list all of the benefits of being a soldier in the grand Federal Army. "You get paid, you wear this uniform that makes the ladies swoon, you get to march through towns to exhibit your bravery, get your picture taken and you'd be hailed a hero, even if you don't see a fight."

"Speakin' o' the ladies," Gobber waggled his eyebrows, suggestively. "ow's it goin' wit' Astrid?"

Hiccup glared at him.

"You know she's off limits, engaged to my idiot cousin." Hiccup reminded. He looked away and decided to be interested in one of the stray minie balls, left on the work table. He picked it up and fumbled with it as Gobber continued to poke him, making jokes about his hormones. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've seen t'way yeh look at 'er."

"Oh please," Hiccup scoffed, closing his fist around the bullet, he pointed a finger at him. "She wouldn't come near me even if she was on fire and I had the only bucket in town-"

Just like that, there was a loud neigh and both males looked to see Astrid Hofferson casually dismount and tie up her horse like all the men do. She held her rifle in one hand and entered the shop.

"Hey," she greeted and Hiccup swallowed in nervousness, subconsciously admiring her as she approached Gobber, holding out the rifle. "Can I get this looked at?"

Hiccup shook his head.

"Oh h-hi there, hello there, A-Astrid." Hiccup sputtered like an idiot. Gobber only chuckled, bemused. "W-what can I d-do for you?"

And just like that, Astrid threw him the gun and Hiccup caught it with both hands, nearly falling from the sudden addition of weight. Gobber cleared his throat.

"Well, my manly apprentice here," Gobber said, shoving Hiccup forward towards the Hofferson girl. Hiccup glared at him. "Will service all of your needs. I have to go…to the station."

He left with a hooting guffaw and Hiccup turned to regard Astrid.

"Gobber." He gestured to the door. Astrid reached over, picked up the rifle to give it one more inspection, hesitating first to put it back in this scrawny boy's arms, she did and Hiccup nearly fumbled again.

"Right, so what seems to be the problem?" Hiccup said as he placed the gun on a table. Astrid hovered the opposite side and pointed to the flint.

"Either something is lodged in the firing mechanism or it's jammed somewhere." Astrid informed. Hiccup took a good look at it and set to work.

"So you were a good shot yesterday while we out hunting." Hiccup tried to casually converse. Astrid picked up a Colt revolver and looked at it.

"Yeah, but then Snotlout had his third one nipped and so…he gets the praise instead." Astrid mumbled darkly. She tested out the revolver by pointing it, cocking back the flint and pulling the trigger. She checked if it was unloaded, wouldn't want to scare the scrawny boy with the loud bang. To amuse herself, as Hiccup was engrossed in his work, she pointed it at his head and cocked back the flint. He had looked up at her with his crooked, half-hearted smile, she lowered her hand immediately and set the gun aside.

"You know Snotlout," Hiccup exhaled with a rather exaggerated roll of his eyes. Astrid had a small smile of her own from the boy's facial expressions.

With a smile, he quietly cured the problem with the gun, an old pebble lodged in the mechanism and then, while Astrid minded her own business, snooping around the shop, he decided to make a few other repairs. Even though Astrid was intended for another, to a boy she completely despises (making Hiccup feel moderately better about the whole thing), Hiccup felt the urge to do something nice for her, perhaps as a motive to get her to remember him.

He looked up from his polishing to see Astrid walk over to his little corner.

"Wait, don't-"

She opened the curtain and stared at the array of sketches hung on the wall.

"What is all this?" she said, bouncing every word with piqued interest. Hiccup removed himself from his work and walked over there.

"Just…drawings." Hiccup said. Astrid looked at one, a drawing of the town as if from a rider's perspective.

"You draw?" she inquired.

"Yeah, in my spare time." He replied with a shrug. "I sort of…want to be an illustrator for some newspaper."

"Like Harper's Weekly?"

"I'll work my way up there." Hiccup tried to make a joke. Harper's Weekly was the elite newspaper business in New York City, only the best artists are commissioned for the paper. So far, there were many good sketches of the field operations down in Virginia and some very detailed sketches of the parades through towns and cities with newly-minted soldiers.

Astrid took a look at other such drawings, there were some sketches of the anatomy of a rifle, a musket, pistol, even a cannon. Fishlegs would've gawked at the careful hand and attention to detail. She looked back at the boy, a bit admiring his careful handiwork with her smooth-bore musket.

"They are…rather good." Astrid complimented and Hiccup's ears reddened as he flipped the gun on another side.

"T-thank you." Hiccup said without looking up, he was afraid she'd scoff at his pink cheeks. He wanted to look somewhat professional and manly.

"Are you done yet?" she questioned as she stalked back over to his workbench. Hiccup picked up the musket, aimed it as if he was a true hunter, checking his work. He cocked back flint, pulled the trigger…completely forgetting that there was a bullet inside the barrel. The shot went off and shattered a lantern hanging outside of the saloon across the street. A couple of bystanders flinched and jumped away, one flung himself to the ground.

Astrid was wide-eyed, so was Hiccup. He cleared his throat, chuckled nervously as he lowered the gun and sheepishly handed it back to its' owner.

"Hehe, oops."

Astrid scoffed, looked over his work.

"You can't shoot for shit." She criticized. She checked her gun a few more times. "But…you do repair pretty well. It looks like you polished my barrel too."

"Yeah, we're a full service outfit here." Hiccup commented, trying to look confident only to scratch his cheek nervously, barely making eye-contact. Astrid looked at the gun then up at him, tossing the weapon to her other hand effortlessly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some paper money only for Hiccup to remove his hand and respond, rather confidently.

"Oh no, on the house." He offered. Astrid put the bills back into her side pouch and looked at the rifle, then up at him.

"Wow…thanks." She said, giving him a small smile before rushing straight out, mounting on her horse and riding back into the woods to get dinner for her family. Hiccup watched her from his workbench, still flustered that he had a pretty lengthy conversation with Astrid Hofferson, her cousin's betrothed and his hidden subject of admiration.

What nearly hurt him badly was remembering that he was too enlist in a few short hours. Perhaps never to have a long conversation like that again. At least, he had a memory to comfort him during the long marches.

00000

Gobber took a break from the station, walked back over to his business to find Hiccup cleaning up.

"Righty-o lad, time t'close up an' sign up." Gobber informed him. Hiccup sighed, put aside the broom and picked up his satchel full of his belongings. He made sure to grab his sketch book and a couple of spare pencils. As he was about to leave the shop behind Gobber, Hiccup found the same Colt revolver that Astrid had fidgeted with. He picked it up, remembering the moment that had only transpired a couple of hours ago, how she pointed it at his head and lowered it right when he looked up. Though, he could interpret it as subtle hostility, there was something rather enduring about Astrid's way of hiding her own misconduct. She did it rather pathetically.

This made Hiccup smile as he put it away from eyes' sight. He then looked over at the same workbench that he had used to take care of Astrid's problem, finding the small pebble there. With a shy smile, he picked it up and placed it inside his satchel as if it was a valuable treasure to him.

Outside the station, Tuffnut, Snotlout and Fishlegs were standing around, waiting for Gobber as was their orders. Gobber would become the Lt. of their company and would be trained by him. Hiccup entered the station without looking at Snotlout, who was making some pretty rude remarks towards the poor lad.

"Oh God, Useless is really joinin'?!" He hooted, hysterically. "Those rebs are sure to run now!"

Tuffnut and Snotlout were cackling in laughter again as Hiccup signed his name and took the oath. He was then handed his parcel. Gobber gestured to him and Hiccup sighed. He opened it and found the uniform in its clean, blue cotton glory.

He stepped out, the sun shining in his eyes as he adjusted the final button of his coat. He held the kepi hat nervously in his hand as he was now in the line of fire of Snotlout's mocking gaze. The uniform felt two sizes too big on him.

He looked up to see the cart waiting for the new rush of recruits. He looked to his left to see Ruffnut and Astrid there, horses next to them. Tuffnut walked over to his sister, they had one more quick fist fight, bloodying Tuffnut's nose one last time before hugging it like true siblings.

"Don't die or I'll kick your dumb ass." Ruffnut said to her dear brother. Tuffnut nodded and walked over to the cart after tipping his hat towards Astrid in farewell. Astrid nodded her own head and Snotlout went over to his intended.

"Don't be afraid to write babe," Snotlout said. "Once we stomp those Rebs, I'll hurry home to make you my wife."

And he kissed her, languorously. Hiccup tried to look away, biting his lip back in heartache but he glanced and found Astrid pulling back with a wet _'pop' _and with a small smile on her face that Hiccup knew was fake. Snotlout squared his shoulders to illustrate his manliness and marched to the cart.

Hiccup shyly looked at Astrid once again. He gave her a small smile and a meek wave…which, to his pleasant surprise, returned. He remembered having that small rock in his pouch and he felt a bit more confident as he heard Gobber's impatient voice.

"Aye, c'mon lad!"

Hiccup swallowed and turned towards the cart. He scrambled into the back, pushed by some of the recruits until he was in the back.

His eyes once again fixed on Astrid's shrinking body. Her eyes were on him as well, it rather puzzled him but it was comforting even if he thought she was just staring at him because he looked ridiculous in these blue curtains.

He'd learn a long time later, that wasn't her reason.

To be continued.

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	4. October, '61

What They Did

October, 1861.

Ft. Schuyler, New York.

The piercing notes of the bugler echoed throughout the camp like a howling pup. Hiccup groaned, fell onto his back as he rubbed his tired eyes. The space around him shifted with Tuffnut, Fishlegs, Snotlout and a young drummer boy named Gustav, crawling about.

The day began with the typical roll call, the drill sergeant screaming into your face because of the mud on your shirt and then the morning drills which included marching in every speed, quickstep and doublequick. There was running with the muskets to your shoulders, there was formation practice and there was range practice.

Gobber screamed at his face for several minutes as Hiccup fumbled with loading his gun. His hands shook as he bit open the cartridge and poured the powder and bullet down the mouth. He then took out the ramrod, plunged it into the depths of the barrel while Gobber insulted him for his slowness, bringing his grandmother into it. Hiccup worked on getting his percussion cap out of his pack and he managed to get the last steps in. He aimed it and fired, just nicking the target. The men behind him chuckled at yet, another failed attempt.

"Righty-o," Gobber instructed as he walked passed Hiccup who stood straight, waiting for orders. "Yeh must be able to reload in ten seconds, if yeh stall fer even the slightest moment, yer dead!"

Then came the bayonet practice which Gobber led once again. Hiccup watched the first line of four soldiers surge forward at the dummies strung up a long tree branch. They stabbed, withdrew and returned to their lines.

Hiccup was third up and he licked his lips in nervousness. He lifted his gun, the weight still heavy on him, and waited for his turn. With the others, he jumped forward and charged but the weight was too restrictive that he just skimmed the dummy and fell onto the ground because he couldn't stop his speed.

Gobber groaned while the company continued to laugh at him.

He reached down, picked Hiccup up and glared at him.

"One thing yeh should know 'bout the enemy, they'll always, _always," _he said as he narrowed his gaze at Hiccup. "Go fer the kill."

00000

Hiccup was comfortable alone inside his tent under the dim candle light while Snotlout, Tuffnut and Gustav sat around a fire just beyond their tent. Snotlout was talking about some glorious hunt he had made to two fellows in their platoon, Thuggory and a man they called Speedifist.

As Hiccup heard Snotlout's boasts, he continued sketching. He heard him mention to Thuggory that he was engaged to the most beautiful woman in the entire nation. Hiccup had to agree with his sentiments about that fact, until Thuggory asked about her specialties and Snotlout started talking about every physical attribute as if she was a horse.

Hiccup stared down at his portrait, the carefully sketched face and contours of Astrid Hofferson's face. He never got the nose right but it looked better in this picture tonight. He sighed and stared at his masterpiece, finding a bit of a cure for his homesickness even when he didn't have very much. His thoughts then added his father. He hasn't heard very much about Capt. Haddock only that he'll be in camp when training is over, to form the battalion and move out.

And it was November when they officially left Ft. Schuyler. Outside was New York City, waiting for them to parade through while they waved American flags, the brass bands playing songs of patriotism and women blowing kisses to the marching soldiers. Women from the city had constructed their flag, a bonnie green flag would symbolic to the 1st Irish Brigade.

The entire regiment was roused, bacon was frying and coffee was brewing once roll call was taken. It would be after breakfast that they'd tear down the tents, roll up their mats and backpack their belongings. They would exit this fort today as fresh soldiers.

Snotlout was talking to Thuggory again. Thuggory had gotten a letter last night from his wife.

"Aye, she's expectin'…we 'ope it's a daug'er this time." Thuggory remarked. Snotlout gave a hooting laugh.

"Daughter? Why not a son?" Snotlout said. "Can't have too many sons."

"I've always wanted a lil' lass," Thuggory commented. He looked sorrowfully into his cup for a somber minute. Hiccup nearly felt the same. Thuggory looked up to address Snotlout. "We almost 'ad'un, but…she ne'er made it t'er first birthday."

"Sorry to hear that," Snotlout remarked. "I've heard that sons have better chances through the winter."

Hiccup nearly rolled his eyes at his cousin's self-centered demeanor.

"So, yeh've got plans fer children wit'…this pre'y lass o' yers, boy-o?" the married man asked Snotlout. The boy nodded eagerly.

"Yup, seven sons, maybe one daughter to make Astrid happy." His cousin boasted. He even looked at Hiccup, mocking him with that gaze of triumph. Hiccup shook his head and took another sip of his bitter coffee.

"Big family, aye?" Thuggory commented with a chuckle. "Children're very good fer a couple."

Hiccup sighed and then the bugler played again. Camp was torn, supplies divided, though Hiccup ended up with more than a third. Fishlegs saw Hiccup sway from the weight and walked over to him.

"You want me to take some of that?" He asked him. Hiccup shook his head.

The men were lined up, Hiccup was in the second row from the front of the company. He had his musket on his shoulder like everyone else, the pack on his back still causing him to lean back some, the soldier behind him pushed him not-so-gently forward and he tried to keep himself stilled.

They took a steamer across the bay to get to the main street. As they filed out of the boat in clear army organization, the people were cheering for them, you could hear the melody to "John Brown's Body" and you could see the confetti from the upper decks.

As Hiccup marched down the gangplank, he looked down to see a familiar face, mounted on a reddish horse that matched his long beard. He was decked out in the blue cotton overcoat and brogans, sword withdraw and placed against his shoulder, top of his kepi hat hanging limply downwards, proud captain badges sewn on his broad shoulders. Capt. Haddock looked up to see his son march down the gangplank and as Hiccup settled into formation, looking away from his father, Capt. Haddock nodded in approval before ordering his horse forward to join the regimental colonel at the front line.

It was a glorious day, the 69th raised their hats in the air, cheering wildly as the old men praised these brave Irishmen, the women swooned at the sight of their valor and the children marched alongside them, wishing they were them. And, as Hiccup solemnly guessed, it would be the last time for most of these boys to ever touch the cobblestone streets of New York City.

To be continued.

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	5. Winter, 1862 Summer, 1862

Winter, 1862.

Alexandria, Virginia.

In December, the 88th and 63rd New York regiments joined the 69th, they formed a brigade of over 2,500 men. Their brigadier general was Gen. Thomas Meagher and their division general had been Gen. Sumner who was the oldest general in the Army of the Potomac. The other two brigades in the division was Oliver Howard's and William French's. By Christmas, the boys arrived at Camp California in Alexandria, Virginia to spend winter. Throughout that cold winter, there was drills and more drills while they also done their duty in the picket line.

Because of their stillness, Hiccup saw a lot of his father. Capt. Haddock moved around the camp frequently, taking care of records in his battalion, going to meetings with the top commanders, supervising drills and pickets…doing his duty. Only twice, Hiccup exchanged a little more than a "Hey Dad."

The first time was a run-in as he exited his tent. Stoick wanted to know where Snotlout was and Hiccup responded that he was on picket duty. Snotlout returned that evening, around their fire, gloating about his promotion to Sergeant. Hiccup had no words and just resumed his sketching of the camp.

The second time was more sentimental. Hiccup was out late, men still up were singing Christmas songs around the fire. He heard the chorus to _Silent Night _while he busied himself with another sketch, alone on Christmas Night. Most men at the camp had gotten presents or letters from their home, they read them to their comrades to numb their homesick heart. It sort of made the young Haddock envious.

"I know tha' lass,"

Hiccup looked up to see his father. Hiccup immediately stood up, saluted and Stoick only returned it, a bit perked up by his son's behaved manners towards senior commanders.

"At ease, Pvt."

And Hiccup sat back down.

"So…the Hofferson lass," Stoick said as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the nearby pot. "Yeh've got yer eye on 'er?"

Hiccup chuckled, nervously.

"Don' lie son," Stoick admonished when he figured that Hiccup would try to bat away any affection.

"Alright, yes, I do." Hiccup answered truthfully. "But she's already promised to Snotlout."

"He'll make yeh call 'im Sgt. Jorgenson, soon 'nough."

Hiccup sighed.

"I know." He grumbled. Stoick coughed for a couple of seconds in mild awkwardness. He hadn't had a good conversation with his son…since…well…he couldn't really remember.

"So 'ow's yer shootin' comin' 'long son?" Stoick asked. "Gobber said yeh 'ad a few…near 'its?"

"I'm hitting the target at least." Hiccup exhaled as he closed his book. "I'm hoping to have some improvement when the spring comes."

"Just train 'ard, son." The father assured. Hiccup nodded, solemnly. Stoick cleared his throat, sniffed and took something out of his pocket. "This…is addressed t'yeh."

Hiccup reached for the letter.

"The reason I asked 'bout 'er…was, well, it's from 'er." Stoick informed as Hiccup flipped it over. He opened it up, once again, surprised that this woman that he only had very few words with…had sent him something. His own loneliness, apart from his father's stiff presence, made him a bit more at ease.

He took out the parchment, carefully unfolded it and two crisp bills fell into his hand. In neat scrawl, he read the words silently.

_Hiccup,_

_I know this is the last thing you'd expect but that day at the gunsmith's shop, I can't help but feel bad that I didn't pay for your services. The gun works better now than it ever had and with Christmas around the corner and your father, well, gone most of the time….look, I'm not good with words so I'll just say that think of this as a payment or a gift, I don't really care but I thought you'd want something sent to you. Just, be careful when you go out there and, at least, pretend that you know how to aim your weapon. Aim for their chest, always. _

_And by the way, DO NOT show Snotlout this and this WON'T be regular. _

_Keep Safe and Merry Christmas, _

_Astrid Hofferson. _

Hiccup picked up the two bills and looked at them like they were gold. He had the warmest smile on his face, completely thawed from the cold, bitter Virginian air. What even made him feel better was the slightest inch of competition, Snotlout hadn't received anything from his betrothed, not a single letter, while he had just received a letter _and _two dollar bills. He smirked and tucked the letter inside of his notebook for safe keeping.

"Thanks Dad." Hiccup said to his father. Stoick nodded and finished his coffee.

"Get some rest, Pvt." Stoick said as he stood up. He was about to leave until he turned around and looked over his shoulder, the echoes of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," ringing through the camp. "Merry Christmas."

And the good captain walked away, leaving Hiccup to look at the letter placed between two clean pages.

"Merry Christmas, Dad." He said to the retreating back of his father.

0000000

Christmas came and went and so came the two long months of January and February. There was more drilling and picket duty, bitterer coffee and stale hardtack. By early March, there was a whole bunch of changes to the army structure. Now there were corps, all officers appointed, by the Federal government, without mentioning it to the General-in-Chief of the Army, General McClellan, a man who seemed to be alienated by the War Office and the political prowess in Washington. Throughout the war, there was several other accounts of political interference in army's plans and organization.

However, General Meagher earned his rank as brigadier general. General Sumner became the commander of the 2nd corps which included the Irish Brigade and General Richardson would take command of the Irish.

Hiccup remembered the day General Richardson went to inspect the Irish Brigade. They were all in formation, aligned perfectly with their uniforms clean and their guns glimmering like jewels. A Lt. from Meagher's staff rode on up.

"Well, what do yeh think boys?!" He shouted loudly. "The General [Richardson] thinks so much of his Irish brigade that he has provided a barrel of whiskey for each regiment!"

When Richardson rode up, it was hard not to cheer so loudly, the men really wanted their whiskey. Hiccup, feeling a dash of confidence, took off his own hat and they waved it at the officer riding up to them. The whole whiskey gimmick was a lie but the brigade had agreed that it was a well-played joke. The memory of meeting their new commander never entirely left Hiccup's mind.

With winter over, the army was on the move again so they tore down camp and went on marching. Hiccup felt perhaps a bit stronger than when he first left. The musket didn't seem so heavy now.

000000

Summer, 1862,

Chickahominy River, Virginia.

Peninsula Campaign.

War resumed after that tough winter. Confederate General Lee had caught General McClellan down near York River in Virginia. The fighting started north of the Chickahominy River but Lee was flanking McClellan away from the Union base of supplies. The Union Fifth Corps was at the White House depot, alone while the rest of the army moved their supplies southwards on a single road. Lee pushed this isolated corps from their position at Mechanicsville and then at Gaines' Mill. The corps continued to move across the Chickahominy in retreat.

Hiccup remembered first arriving on the field. They had ran as fast as they could, it was hard to see when they entered the fray. By the time they got there, the Irish Brigade and French's brigade were covering the corps's retreat across the river. They were all in formation, this was it, Hiccup's first engagement. The ground shook from artillery, the gun smoke burned his eyes and lungs and his hands trembled as he faced death right in the eye.

Without even aiming, he fired his gun. He then knelt down and reloaded it. He heard his father and he heard Gobber shouting above the loud _bangs _and _pops _of musket fire. A man, right next to Hiccup, was reloading his gun when there was a whiz and a grunt. Hiccup was barely aiming his own musket and looked over at the man. He was doe-eyed, unable to process that, clearly, the man died as he fell to the ground and it was a man from his town.

It was Fishlegs's voice that tore Hiccup from his thoughts.

"Hiccup, keep shooting!" he roared over the guns. Hiccup shook his head, stood to his feet and shot. Dirt and dust kicked up everywhere, Hiccup's heart raced.

"Retreat!"

000000

The Irish Brigade pulled out and returned to General Sumner at Five Oaks Station across the Chickahominy. The bridges were burnt to stall the Rebs.

Hiccup didn't get a bit of sleep that night. All he saw was that man falling to the ground, stone cold when he laid on that soft grass. So, this was what war was like.

In an attempt to forget the fallen comrade, he decided to draw yet another portrait. Yet, all that came to his mind was that fallen man. He looked up for a moment, feeling inspired and he started to sketch careful lines. His mind thinking of his family.

"One 'ell o' a scrap t'day."

Hiccup looked up to see Gobber sitting down across from him. Hiccup stared at the old, blonde Scot who extended his leg.

"Got grazed by a minie." The man commented. Hiccup closed his journal. "'ow're yeh lad, any injuries?"

"Not today, thankfully." Hiccup sighed as he nervously fidgeted with his hands. "Is Dad…"

Gobber chuckled.

"No worries, yer blockhead father is still ridin' up an' down these lines." Gobber reported. Hiccup nodded and looked down. Gobber frowned as well, knowing full well what the boy was feeling. "First battle's always d'ardest on a new soldier."

Hiccup just looked up at him. Gobber sighed as he adjusted his prosthetic arm.

"I was like yeh af'er Bull Run." The man informed as he took out his flask and took a sip. He offered the flask to his apprentice but Hiccup declined with a shake of his head.

"So…what's going to happen to us?" Hiccup found himself asking as he caressed the leather cover of his notebook. Gobber placed his whiskey aside and looked at the boy.

"Well, lad, McClellan's in retreat, 'bout to abandon this campaign altogether." Gobber reported. "The only advantage those Rebs will git is the fact tha' Richmond is safe fer 'nother day."

Richmond, Virginia was the capitol of the Confederacy. Their president was Jefferson Davis, an old war veteran and American statesman from the Lower South. President Lincoln was much geared towards getting that capitol, there would be several attempts to capture Richmond.

Hiccup sighed, a bit saddened by the idea of defeat. He took a moment to wonder, he thought about the fallen man and he opened his notebook subconsciously to the exact page of his drawing.

"Yeh've been drawin' 'lot." Gobber observed. Hiccup looked up and nodded his head, half-heartedly.

"Just places we've camped out, some of the men at ease or drilling."

"Who is the lad on d'page?" Gobber pointed to the journal. Hiccup looked down at it.

"Pvt. Kelly." Hiccup responded, quietly. Gobber sighed.

"Aye, Sven Kelly was a good man." The man sat back in the chair. "'as a newborn lass. Wee'un. Named her Hildegard af'er his mother's Norwegian roots…if an'ythin', tha' lass looks more like-a Magnus."

"Magnus's is a boy's name." The boy pointed out. Gobber chuckled.

"Wasn' gonna grow up t'look like a Hildegard." Gobber said, taking another dram of whiskey. He lowered it, now looking forlornly as amusement subsided. There was an eerie silence and the fire crackled once Hiccup tossed a lame stick in. He placed his journal aside on the ground, next to his half-eaten plate of food. His elbows pressed against the tops of his knees, back hunched over as he stared at the licking flames of the controlled blaze. "Aye, this war…won' be like o'ers."

If Hiccup was heartbroken and distraught over a man he barely knew in the community, how was he going to carry on throughout the rest of the war? Gobber thought for a couple of more moments before finally adjusting himself to stand up. Hiccup followed to respect the officer.

"I'm off t'bed." Gobber said. He gestured to him with flask in his hand. "Yeh should git some sleep too, not tellin' wha' tomorrow'd be like."

Hiccup nodded, saluted to the officer. Gobber only shook his head.

"Not when we're in private, boy-o. Feels weird." He jested but returned a more informal salute in return. Hiccup felt himself smile the first grin of the entire day as Gobber walked away. It tapered when he heard Gobber's own reflection of this war in his head when he went to his tent.

"_Won' be like o'ers."_

0000000

Savage's Station.

They had been marching for two days. The Irish Brigade crossed White Oak Swamp, ordered to hold a front line in front of the supply wagon train near Savage's Station. The Confederate Army struck on June 29th and that afternoon was full of fighting.

More men fell around Hiccup and he still struggled with reloading his gun under this immense pressure. He coughed, his small lungs still not adjusting to the "Fog of War" he heard it called. He nervously looked to his right, watching his cousin pushing a comrade a tad forwards.

"Keep firin'!" He shouted. "Keep those Rebs back!"

He turned his head to see Fishlegs fumbling with a bloody hand. Weeks ago, the Ingerman boy was just as much of a struggler as he was under the screaming drill sergeant. Now, Fishlegs was becoming more adaptable to the sounds of battle, faster than he was.

Hiccup finished loading his gun and hastily took aim, just as long as he aimed beyond him. He pulled the trigger, his own bang still ringing in his ears like he whacked something against his ear drum several times. He'd go deaf and blind by the time his enlistment was up.

He hadn't realized how long the fighting commenced until he looked to the sky and saw that it was darkening over the smoky blanket. It was then that the 2nd Corps was in position to act as the rearguard of the supply train and they finally were able to cross White Oak Swamp. Hiccup remembered throwing a torch to one of the brigades and they burned, delaying Lee from crossing, at least for the day.

To be continued.

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	6. July, '62

July, 1st, 1862.

Malvern Hill, Virginia.

Peninsula Campaign

It was a typical Virginian hot day. Hiccup marched to the feeble taps of the drummers, the fifers were quietly marching on. There was little talk, a few mumbled whispers about their next destination. Hiccup looked up from his steady marching, watching his father dash by on his horse to join the colonel up front.

Capt. Haddock didn't even spare a glance at his exhausted son. He did look at Sgt. Jorgenson and gave him a curt nod. Snotlout saluted to his uncle, shoulders squared in poise. It was then he heard Thuggory speak up.

"So tha's yer uncle?"

"Sure is, Pvt. He gave me these stripes." Snotlout boasted. "Always said I'd make a good soldier."

Thuggory had nodded.

"You think we're gonna see some fighting today, Sarge?" Speedifist inquired.

"I wouldn't doubt it." Snotlout replied. Fishlegs sighed.

"We've been fighting for five days now, marching in the nighttime. I could use some rest." Fishlegs interjected.

"You know what my own Da says about rest?" Snotlout replied to Fishlegs's complaint. He pointed right at him. "Rest is for the weak."

"Ah, but bloo'y 'ell, if we're not fightin', we're marchin'." Thuggory replied. "Always the first t'get the attack, and the las' t'leave the fight."

"We're soldiers, Thug." Snotlout replied. He then chose to glance at Hiccup with his typical, boastful gaze. "Most of us."

Hiccup could hear Tuffnut's snicker.

Capt. Haddock rode back to their company.

"Gobber, the 2nd corps are bein' on the right ce'er of the Union line, jus' up tha' 'ill." Stoick reported. "The Rebs're seem t'be aimed at our ce'er, so we'll 'ave some time fer rest."

Gobber nodded, saluted to his commanding officer and Stoick rode back without another word.

General Sumner's corps reached the hill, settling themselves as the right flank of the Union line. The troops were facing north, making a large semicircle around the hill.

"Is there a name to this hill, Fishlegs?" Hiccup asked as they walked over to a shady tree. They removed the packs on their backs and casted them aside.

"The locals call it Malvern Hill." Fishlegs reported as he collapsed onto the ground, haggardly. Hiccup followed suit, taking off his hat and wiping the sweat off his brow. "God, I never thought we'd ever sit again."

Hiccup remained quiet, thoughtful as the ground trembled from the artillery that was under the command of General Porter, the same corps they had shielded when they retreated across the Chickahominy.

"There's a 47% chance we'll be fighting today." Fishlegs commented, offhandedly. "The Rebs are aimin' for the center over there. The center looks like it's holdin' pretty well."

Hiccup only nodded and finally rested his back against the tree, finally closing his eyes for the first time in several days. The cannons rumbled in his thoughts but once he focused on one specific face, re-imagining sky blue eyes and golden hair braided down the back of a lithe, muscular feminine body, it was only distant thunder to him now. No storm hovering above him at this hour, he found some sweet solace.

He had walked into his shop, tying on the apron while he went over his to-do list today. He was humming an old patriot tune and picked up a beat up musket.

"_Open for business, Haddock?"_

He turned his body to see Astrid Hofferson, sitting on one of the chairs as if waiting for his arrival.

"_Top of the hour, so yeah, I'm open." _

"_I've been waiting for you, you know."_

"_R-really, w-why is t-that?"_

She had risen, walked up to him like an evil temptress. He had swallowed hard and felt her hands drape on his shoulders.

"_I've been waiting for you, you know."_

Hiccup jolted away after Fishlegs smacked him in the stomach, a bit too hard. He dazedly looked at the man.

"C'mon, they're forming the brigade." Fishlegs informed. Quickly, Hiccup jumped to his feet, staggered to one side but picked up his musket and percussion pouch. He forgot the pack, they probably wouldn't need it today.

Hiccup and Fishlegs rushed to join their company. Sgt. Jorgenson was there.

"Should've been faster, Pvts!" he hurled at them as they were the last to join the ranks. Snotlout fell into his position as Capt. Haddock rode up to them.

"The Rebs're up against our guns o'er there." He informed Gobber. "Be ready t'charge."

He rode off to inform the other companies and Hiccup got a good look at his father riding on, just like his nickname, stoically.

Hiccup flexed his hand against his musket.

"Shoulder arms! Right Face!"

Every man brought their guns to their shoulders and turned to the specified direction.

"Countermarch by files, right! March!"

The drums and fifes went off to their typical tune. Like machines, they marched to the beat towards the sound of their guns. Hiccup bit his lip. Gobber said the first battle was tough, but what was Chickahominy compared to this, up ahead there were over thirty artillery pieces that Rebs nearly got their hands on. The center is crippling and Porter is being pushed back. Two whole brigades are being sent as reinforcement. Hiccup would later learn that the other brigade came from a General Daniel Sickles' division.

Hiccup swallowed hard as he felt the temperature rise, smoke becoming much thicker. He squinted, trying to see figures in the smoky mist but all he saw were shadows and the lights from discharged weaponry. Hiccup immediately pictured Astrid's face, trying to keep himself from losing all sanity among the chaos. He wouldn't think about his father and fear for his safety. He wouldn't think about Gobber and fear for his safety. Hell, he wouldn't think of the boys he was in line with.

"Company into line!"

Instantly, the Irish Brigade formed right behind the battery line. The gray were just at the first line of the artillery. The infantry that had held this ground was running out of stamina to repulse these attackers. The 69th were the front of the entire brigade, the other regiments formed right behind them.

Hiccup swallowed thickly. Just then, Porter and Meagher galloped passed the regiment. Their brigadier general whooped loudly to them.

"Come on, come on, my brave men; Ireland shall have another day!" He raised his sword. "Shoulder arms, guide on the colors! Forward! March!"

"Faugh an Ballaugh!" came roaring from another company. Hiccup distracted himself and looked at Fishlegs with inquisitive eyes.

"Clear the way." He translated.

Just like that, the drum and fife corps played the Irish tune "Garry Owen" and the 69th marched forward with the 88th New York behind them. Hiccup didn't exactly describe what he felt as he stepped over the wounded and dead bodies that littered the hilltop. He just tried to look on without looking down.

Forward. Halt. Fire. Forward.

That was the pattern and the gray were pushed back into the nearby woods. Hiccup tried reloading but something was entirely working and it seemed like there was little time to diagnose the problem. The rest of the 69th seemed to be struggling as well because the Colonel ordered a retreat. The 88th came forward to take care of the onslaught Confederates while the 69th replenished their ammunition.

"I hit me one!" Tuffnut gloated to Snotlout as they reloaded. "Saw him jump up and flounder like a fish."

"I think I got two with the same bullet." Snotlout interjected as he reloaded.

Hiccup had slid the ramrod back into place.

The 69th surged forward quickly, taking over the 88th's position. Then the same thing happened, the 69th swooped back and the 88th went forward again. It was volley after Irish volley, the smoke thickening from the frequent discharges. Men tumbled forwards, backwards and sideways after each volley, dead, wounded or dying.

Hiccup felt one bullet graze the tip of his ear and he slapped his hand over it. There was only the slightest blood when he removed it. He shook his head, getting over the shock of the close call. The bullet must've hit some poor fellow behind him.

The 88th came to their rescue, they came forward with fixed bayonets, the only help they could provide.

"69th! Bayonets!"

The torn regiment withdrew their knives and attached them at the muzzle of their guns. Hiccup checked three times for security and waited like every other soldier. He licked his chapped lips, trying to picture Astrid's face for courage.

The command came and they all ran forward. Hiccup was knocked down quickly before it probably even began. He covered his head, played dead as he tried to gather himself. He huffed and puffed.

Finally, he rose to his feet and picked up his musket. A Reb was charging straight at him and Hiccup lifted his musket, recalling the words.

_Aim for the chest, always. _

Without second thinking it, he pulled the trigger and the Reb in front of him, jerked and fell to the ground.

"Holy…I did it!" Hiccup announced with pride. "I hit him!"

He looked around.

"Did anybody see that?!"

"ARGH!"

Hiccup turned.

"Except for you." He mumbled. The Reb came forward, slashing his bowie knife and Hiccup lifted his musket to meet the knife. He was jarred from the impact and the Reb swung the butt of his rifle into his head. Hiccup swayed to the side and was overcome with the Reb's weight.

Before the Reb could do the final act, he heard three cracks and looked up to see the man in front of him, falling towards him.

"Oh no."

He rolled out of the way, just in time to see Capt. Haddock ride passed while cocking back his flint once again.

Hiccup struggled to get back into the fight.

00000

That night, the Confederates withdrew and the Union declared a victory. The 69th and the 88th went to rejoin the rest of the brigade. Camp was set up and the Irish Brigade celebrated their first "real" engagement. Hiccup walked passed Snotlout gloating about his heroic actions today. Gobber had a couple of his own stories and Speedifist shared a story about capturing three prisoners at once.

Hiccup found himself wandering to the haunted ground. Surgeons and chaplains were doing what they could to get the dead and wounded back to the Union line. Hiccup stepped over the bodies, the moon was out and casted its great light over the dead, a few lanterns also provided some dim lighting.

Hiccup heard the moans and groans. Men were being helped up if they could limp back to the lines.

"W-water."

Hiccup looked over to see a Reb right by him. He was holding his arm, eyes half-lidded in pain. Hiccup swallowed, unsure what exactly to do. The Reb already made eye contact with him, he couldn't just walk away without doing anything.

Then, he blinked twice. It couldn't be.

It was the same Reb he shot before he was pummeled into the ground. Hiccup took two steps back, debated about running away, run away from his personal guilt. He stayed where he stood, however. Mind summarizing to one specific fact.

"I did this."

Now, his eyes turned to a steely determination, Hiccup took off his canteen, uncorked it and knelt down to the man. He held it out in front of him.

"Here, it's warm but…"

Greedily, the man swiped it and slurped it down. Hiccup helped him hold it as he was without one arm. The man nearly dropped the canteen but Hiccup caught it and set it aside. The Reb groaned and flinched in great pain. Hiccup glanced away, guiltily.

"I-I can get a surgeon." Hiccup offered. "Get you to my camp."

"I'd…rather die…than become yer prison'r…Yank."

Hiccup glanced to the ground again and then looked back up at him.

"Do you…have a name, Reb?"

"The name's…Tom…" the man answered. "But…I go by…Toothless."

"Toothless? What for?"

The man opened his mouth and there it was, four front teeth missing.

"Yank…bashed me an' caught it right…in'de mouth."

Hiccup tried not to laugh as he heard the whistle between his words. Hiccup looked at the man again.

"Wha' they name you, Yank?"

"My real name is Henry." Hiccup responded. "But they call me Hiccup."

Toothless chuckled.

"I thought I had the ugliest name."

Hiccup chuckled, too and sat in front of the Reb.

"What's your outfit?" Hiccup asked.

"10th Louisiana." Toothless responded. "They call us…Lee's Foreign Legion."

"How come?"

"Cause we're all foreigners. Reckon you've…never been with Louisiana, huh?" He questioned. Hiccup shook his head.

"This is furthest south I've ever been." He answered truthfully. Toothless smiled and nodded.

"Louisiana…full o' foreigners. French, Greeks, Germans…Spaniards."

Hiccup nodded and then looked at the wounded arm.

"C'mon, at least let me get a surgeon for you." Hiccup offered, reaching for the rebel. Toothless drew back his own arm, Hiccup's hand hanging in mid-air.

"I won't be…a prisoner." He stubbornly refused.

Hiccup sighed and lowered his entire arm. He continued to sit by the dogged rebel. He took off his hat and wiped his brow from the sweat collecting there. He casually place the kepi hat back on his head and looked over to his left where he heard a neigh.

A cart was drawing closer. It was pulled by a magnificent chestnut-colored horse. The horse bobbed its head up and down as it slowly maneuvered around the littered bodies. Next to the horse, there was someone, holding up a lantern. The arm moved side to side, the body turned as it inspected the bodies.

An ambulance.

Hiccup glanced over at Toothless who was barely hanging on. His bloody hand still grasping the wound on his arm. Hiccup was about to wave the savior over but the cart already beat him. He was staring at Toothless when the person, a girl, approached.

"Whoa, girl." The female commanded and the horse stopped obediently. Hiccup lifted his gaze to the woman towering above him and his mouth went dry. Immediately, he stood up and squinted at her. The girl caught his scrutinizing glare. "I'm here to retrieve the wounded."

Hiccup blinked and shook his head.

"A-Astrid?" He asked, nervously. The girl looked right at him, eyes narrowed in baffled skepticism.

"How do you know my name?" She demanded, lifting the lantern higher as if to see if she could recognize the soldier. Hiccup instantly took off his cap, slowly lowering his arm. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at her with his emerald eyes.

"It-It's me," he stammered. "Henry. Henry Haddock."

Astrid almost took a step back in disbelief at this coincidence.

"Jesus, I thought you were dead." She mumbled.

"What?" Hiccup asked, head cocked aside. What baffled him more was the fact that she sounded like…she cared about his welfare. "N-no, I'm very much alive. It...was…one helluva a battle, I guess."

Astrid gave a curt nod and then looked at the injured man. She rushed over to him, shoving the lantern into Hiccup's arms. Hiccup lifted it to give Astrid the light she needed to inspect the soldier.

"This Reb…what's his condition?" She asked him.

"Shot in the arm." Hiccup said, hand grasping the back of his neck nervously about why there was lead in that limb. Astrid examined the wound as best she could from the dim lighting. Hiccup was completely in awe for two reasons. One, was the fact that she was here and two, she appeared to be a nurse, something Hiccup would never guess if he was back home. He knew one thing, she was full of surprises. Astrid stood up after a few moments and whistled for her horse to come closer. "What's the verdict?"

Astrid stilled Stormfly with a hand on her neck and she retreated to the saddlebag, pulling out some gauze.

"I'll have to use this to make a makeshift tourniquet to hold him until I can get him to the field hospital." Astrid said, offhandedly. She knelt back down to Toothless.

"Is he…going to be okay?" Hiccup rephrased. Astrid stopped for a moment, sighed and looked right up at him.

"May lose an arm." Astrid stated. "The bullet must've nicked an artery."

Hiccup took a step back, overwhelmed with the thought that that bullet was his.

"I did this." He murmured once again. His heart heavy. His unlikely response caught Astrid's attention, she paused in her work to look up at the boy.

"What do you mean?"

Hiccup was quiet for a few moments, debating about whether he should tell her. He was scared that she'd be scared away by this crime.

"Henry,"

Hiccup looked up to see Astrid still glaring at him with inquisitive eyes, those blue eyes that he could see from the light of the lantern, weren't sky blue, they were icy and demanding.

"I…I shot him." He muttered, darkly. "In the battle, he was there and I was defending myself."

He expected her to give the coldest shoulder ever for his crimes but Astrid only glanced down at the ground but then at Toothless who was partially unconscious.

"Well, good shot." She muttered. She sighed and then looked at him. "Help me get him into the cart."

"No,"

Astrid looked at him, bewildered and Hiccup cleared his throat. He gestured to the soldier.

"He wouldn't let me take him to a surgeon, says he rather be dead than a prisoner."

"Well, now, he's not going to have much of a choice."

Astrid was about to lift him when Hiccup stopped her again.

"And I wouldn't want him to be a prisoner."

"So…what? We should just leave him out here to die?"

Hiccup shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if it came to that. And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he died in a prison camp." Hiccup gestured to his arm. "Once he gets that arm removed, they'll treat the amputation and send him to the closest prison camp. He won't make it in a prison camp with that amputation."

"They still do paroles, especially for the wounded, don't they?" Astrid inquired. Hiccup shrugged.

"I've heard bad things about prisoner exchanges. Ideally, they allow it but there's so much paper work and it delays the exchange. Even with that option available for him, who knows how long he can endure it without the proper care?"

"So, what do you propose we do?" Astrid asked. Hiccup was a bit surprised, noticing that she said "we" twice now as if she was just as a part of this as he was. Hiccup glanced at the dead body to his right, a Union soldier.

"Maybe…disguise him." Hiccup offered. "That way he can proper care in Washington and-"

"Are you crazy?" Astrid scowled at him. She looked briefly to the right, blinked and then back at him. "Or just plain stupid?"

Hiccup shrugged.

"Perhaps both." He offered with a slanted, nervous grin. Astrid rolled her eyes and sighed. She thought for a few moments.

"Fine, this bastard needs to get to the hospital now." Astrid informed. "I'll take care of him and get the surgeon to deal with his arm. You get the damn uniform and meet me at the hospital."

Hiccup nodded and helped Astrid get him into the cart with the other wounded.

00000

Hiccup stood in front of the field hospital tent. He was a bundled of nerves and so, any chance of sleep had been whisked away. He waited patiently as he heard the loud cries of the tended wounded and the groaning of the in-line wounded.

He heard a series of loud shouts. An agonizing cry that, more than likely, belonged to Toothless and then an orderly voice.

"I need more morphine!"

And then, more painful wails.

Hiccup leaned against the ambulance cart, two men still inside, waiting for treatment. He felt bile rising up from his throat, the smells of blood and burnt flesh caused him to vomit onto the ground next to him. His head started to spin. He placed his wrist against his tightlipped mouth to stop the purge of his lunch earlier. He forced himself to swallow the bile, rebel tears stinging his eyes.

There was a hand on his shoulder and he looked up and over to see Astrid there. She had her hands stained with the blood of the injured, a streak of it was painted across her cheek. Her hair was messy and nearly out of its braid. There were dark circles under her eyes, evidence that she had been working just as much as he had in different ways.

He suddenly felt much better and he sighed in relief as he turned to regard her. He took off his hat and casually held it in his hand, something to fidget with.

"He's…going to be alright." Astrid reported. "He's drugged and should be…well…as normal as he can be in his circumstance."

Hiccup nodded.

"You've got the uniform?"

Hiccup reached into the cart and pulled out a folded, tattered blue coat and blue hat. Astrid took them in her arms, ready to go back inside and deal with them.

"Well, you should get some sleep, soldier." Astrid informed. "I'll keep an eye on him for you."

"He'll probably want to kill me in the morning," Hiccup tried to make the grim situation lighter. Astrid found herself smiling at his retort.

"I'm sure he'll get in line."

And Hiccup chuckled and smiled…what a warm, strange feeling that was unmistakably there. The two were suddenly staring at each other, no words spoken. Astrid was the first to break the eye contact, ducked her head and tucked her fallen bangs behind her ear before they fell back into their original place again.

"I-I better go." Astrid stuttered. She blinked twice, when did she ever stutter? Much less in front of a boy?

"Right," Hiccup said. He was about to turn around when he felt something hard whack his shoulder. He jumped and held his bruised upper arm and scowled at the girl responsible. "Ow! Why would you do that?"

"That's for getting me involved with this." Astrid said, lifting the clothes in her hand as a gesture. Hiccup raised a brow in disbelief as he rubbed the pain from his arm. Then, he felt her fist his jacket and pull him towards her in a swift, jerking motion. All the sudden, he felt something warm pressed against his cheek. She released him and looked at him, shyly again, playing with her bangs again. "That's for…everything else."

He watched her leave him. He stood there, dazed but pleasantly dazed. His cheeks were hot and red from blushing so much tonight. If he was a gunsmith, he would hit himself for it but as a soldier, it was more welcoming. His heart danced instead of fall in heartache. His eyes were no longer irritated and his stomach fluttered instead of exploding.

And sleep was good that night.

00000

July 2nd, 1862.

The Union Army on Malvern Hill was awaken by the bugler. Hiccup emerged from his tent, feeling a lot more energetic than he was two days ago, for example. It was just before dawn and it was ordered that camp had to be taken down quickly. The whole Army of the Potomac was ordered to move towards Harrison's Landing before Lee could mount another attack like the day prior.

Hiccup found Astrid helping with the ambulances that would transfer the wounded to Harrison's Landing several miles away.

"He's awake and he's mad." Astrid had reported as Hiccup bit into a hard biscuit. "Just like you predicted."

"Great." He murmured, sarcastically. "Can it wait though? It's a long march today."

Astrid shrugged.

"He's in blue, fooling everyone so far." She said to him. It was so bustling around them that no one would hear their controversial conversation. "The surgeon suggested he go to Washington. I'm going back there with some of these wounded by steamer."

Hiccup felt his heart ache a bit at her departure.

"Okay," he accepted, a tad melancholy. He nodded and straightened himself. "Thank you…for all your help."

"Just don't get used to it."

He nodded again and heard the call to march from a 69th officer. The two shared one last look before he scurried off to join his line.

Astrid took the moment to watch the young soldier rejoin the ranks, his musket shouldered, his cap donned on to cover his sooty face. She lost sight of him in the sea of blue. For a moment, she felt different. Usually, she'd nod in acknowledgement or just walk off, but she felt…a bit mesmerized.

He was still the same, awkward boy from the town…so what was different? Is it the jacket that makes him look twice his actual size? Is it the smoky face and that little graze on his ear that was proof of his ? Is it the fact that he's…alive? That by some miracle from God, he survived the bloodshed here on this hill?

Astrid decided not to think too long on it. She had her own orders while that boy marched off to drums and fifers.

"_I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill_

_And over the moor that's sedgy_

_Such lonely thoughts my heart do fill_

_Since parting with my Betsey"*_

To be continued.

*****_**The lyrics at the end are from the tune "Girl I Left Behind Me" which was commonly played during the 19**__**th**__** century. Granted, these lyrics are more from the later end of the 18**__**th**__** century. But this song was widely popular during the American Civil War. **_

**Please, click that button. **


	7. September, '62

**Alrighty, next chapter guys. So now, the story's gonna have much more action because it was towards this point in the war where the major battles occurred, especially where the Irish Brigade became involved in the Eastern Theater (which included Virginia, Pennsylvania, Maryland etc.) Thank you so much for all the kind reviews. Please continue to provide some suggestions about how I could tell this story. Upon a review, I tried to make sure I detailed the historical contents a little more so people will be able to understand who was the blue (the Union) and who was the grey (the Confederates). I hope this isn't too distracting but too keep this story in the historical context, I feel like I should explain how the army moved and then follow up with the individual story. Please, tell me what you think so far and happy reading! You guys are awesome! **

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

**~Soldier78~**

September 6th, 1862.

Washington D.C-area.

General George B. McClellan's failure with the Peninsula Campaign was not the only lash felt by the Union. After Malvern Hill, President Lincoln briefly placed part of McClellan's army, the Army of the Potomac, under the command of General John Pope, a man from the state of Kentucky who participated in military operations in the West, recently in Missouri. Under the command of General Pope, the Union Army left Harrison's Landing and returned to Washington to defend the capitol as ordered. In August, the Union Army clashed with the Confederate Army at Bull Run, Virginia once again, after the rebel army seized the Union supply depot at Manassas Junction nearby and threatened the telegraph lines that linked back to Washington. Both armies engaged and the Union lost severely. Casualties were more than double the amount lost at the First Bull Run. As consequence, General Pope withdrew and President Lincoln begged McClellan to resume leadership over the Army of the Potomac. Meanwhile, the tactical victory at Bull Run gave the Confederate General Robert E. Lee the opportunity to launch his first invasion to the North.

Hiccup Haddock spent his free time sketching three regimental officers who hovered over a map at the Colonel's tent. He recognized his father among the three and he felt inspired to draw the stoic man, doing his job. He didn't know why, just a spur of the moment sort of thing.

He darkened the lines of his father's unruly beard. Long beards that in desperate need of trimming are not uncommon. Since his first days as a soldier, Hiccup had seen many long, bushy beards and quite bushy sideburns as well. It quite humored him. Styled fur for the winter.

Hiccup was then focused intently on capturing the stony gaze of his father when he heard a rustling in front of him.

He looked up to see his cousin sit on the chair opposite of him. The dividing line was the smoky remainders of last night's fire. Snotlout adjusted his sword's scabbard and looked at his cousin.

"When will you run out of room in that notebook of yours?" Snotlout inquired, though it was rather crass, understandably because it was Snotlout.

"When there isn't paper left," was Hiccup's retorted, smartly. Snotlout narrowed his eyes at him, perturbed by his scrawny cousin's sarcasm.

"Making cracks are ya?" The sergeant accused. Hiccup looked up from his drawing to see his cousin sizing up his shoulders as if trying to intimidate him. The private shook his head.

"Sorry, I was only answering your question." Hiccup responded, calmly.

"That's 'sorry, sir'!" Snotlout stubbornly pressed. He gestured to his sergeant stripes and Hiccup nearly rolled his eyes at his cousin's puffed up ego. He nodded.

"Very well, sorry sir." Hiccup amended. Snotlout still wasn't too pleased but his scowl was interfered with Thuggory running straight towards them.

"I've git me a lass!" He whooped in celebration. Snotlout and Hiccup turned to regard the giddy man. He stopped in front of them. Hiccup showed far more interest in Thuggory's news. "It's a girl!"

Hiccup smiled widely and extended his hand in congratulatory comradery.

"Congratulations," He said. Snotlout observed his cousin for a moment, Hiccup was never that happy, ever. Ever since Malvern Hill, Hiccup has been acting quite different. It was as if Hiccup had a gain in confidence. Thuggory didn't even think twice at the quirk and just shook it with eagerness, Hiccup felt his arm might fall off. Hiccup rolled his shoulder once the happy father released it but still grinned largely.

"Yeh lads wanna see a picture o' 'er?" Thuggory asked. Snotlout shrugged but Hiccup nodded his head. The private showed him the portrait of the mother holding the child. "Tha's me wife, Cami, an' me daugh'er, we wan'ed a Bertha, af'er me grandma."

"She's wonderful, Thuggory." Hiccup smiled at the lovely capture. He then beamed right up at Thuggory who treasured the letter and photograph.

"Bertha Marigold Thuggory." He muttered the name. It was proud on his lips. Snotlout chuckled.

"Yous gone soft, Thug." He said, clasping a firm hand on his shoulder. Thuggory shrugged.

"We ain't rock, sir."

Tuffnut approached his comrades.

"Oi, Snotlout."

Hiccup was expecting a seething correction from Snotlout but he only looked at Tuff.

"Yeah, what?"

"Astrid's here."

Snotlout blinked and raised a brow. Hiccup's heart did an unexpected flutter but he coughed to try to hide his giddy smile.

"Really," He said, he rolled his shoulders. "Prob'ly missed her soldier so much-"

Badly Hiccup wanted to throw a rock at him but it wouldn't do much except give him a court martial. Yeah, his father would've been pretty impressed with that.

"Yeah," Tuffnut responded, impatiently. "He's talking to Hiccup's Da."

Just like that, Snotlout was off to greet his intended and Hiccup licked his lips. Thuggory, who watched Snotlout hurry off with his musket shouldered, chuckled amused.

"Love-struck, ain't he?" Thuggory asked, looking at Hiccup. Hiccup only shook his head, breaking his own thoughts before glancing at Thuggory.

"Wh-what? Oh…yeah, he…really likes her."

Thuggory hummed.

"Mus' be a won'erful lass."

Before Hiccup could answer, there was a loud bark.

"Pvt. Thuggory, git on picket duty!"

"Yes, sir!" Thuggory saluted to Lt. Belchan and moved out swiftly. Gobber glanced at Hiccup.

"Didn' expect the Hoff'rson lass t'come all d'way 'ere to Washin'ton." Gobber chuckled.

Hiccup only saluted to Gobber before rushing off to his own business until his shift on the picket line.

00000

Hiccup was alone, leaving the make-shift latrine when he felt something grab him by the collar and shove him into the ground.

"I told ya Yankee filth, I am no prison'r!"

Hiccup stared wide-eyed, up at his attacker. Toothless was certainly there, his left arm gone and his stub covered by his new jacket. The man knelt down right at him, pulling him by the collar and seething at him.

"Why'd ya do it, Yank?!" he demanded. The rest of the camp seemed to ignore this situation. To them, it was about another cheat in gambling.

"I-I…." Hiccup stammered. Toothless released his hand on the boy and Hiccup flopped back onto the ground with a painful moan.

"Told ya he's pissed as hell."

Hiccup looked up to see Astrid sidled next to Toothless.

"Y-yeah, I got that." Hiccup said, rubbing the sore spot on his back.

"Now Toothless, you've got your fill, right?" Astrid scolded as if a mother.

"Ya think I'm done wit' that Yankee?" Toothless hissed, teeth barred. Astrid placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He did save you," she reminded him.

"And suddenly I'm my army's enemy!" Toothless exclaimed. "This ain't right, I ain't no blue-bellied…"

Hiccup finally stood up.

"Look, I'm sorry, it was all I could think of." He said as he brushed off the leaves and dust. He looked at Toothless. "I…I couldn't just leave you out to die and I damn well was not gonna let you become a prisoner either."

Toothless laughed bitterly.

"Such righteousness from a Yankee." His mocking fanfare turned into a slimy snarl. "Considerin' yer the runt who shot me!"

"It was a battle. You Rebs were stormin' up our hill, nearly took our cannon…it was orders."

The two men fell silent. Toothless sighed and glanced at his stub before looking at the soldier.

"Well…that wasn't a bad shot." Toothless said, as if surrendering or establishing some type of truce.

"I was aiming for your chest."

"Well, thank God you didn't."

The two then smiled and Astrid felt her own smile come along. She then felt a bit like an intruder from some reason and was about to make her way back to…wherever. Astrid was a few steps in that direction when she heard a voice call her.

"Hey, wait!"

Hiccup caught up and nearly bumped into her. He realized his misstep and backed off quickly, stammering an apology.

"I…uh…thank you, once again." He sputtered. Astrid only nodded.

"He's good, still needs some morphine to help ease the pain." Astrid instructed.

"Are…are you going back?" Hiccup asked.

"Yeah, why would I stay here?"

Hiccup froze at that question and scratched his cheek, nervously looking down.

"I…actually dunno. I was hoping…that…you could stay for a while." Hiccup offered. "And…talk."

"And…talk?" Astrid repeated with skepticism. "You know if Snotlout found out that I was talking to-"

"I'd get punched in the face, yeah I know." The tired private stated.

"I noticed he's a Sergeant."

"Yeah, Sgt. Jorgenson! Totally doesn't go to his head." Hiccup muttered, sardonically. Astrid chuckled. "No man in the platoon says "nay" to his commands!"

Then, Astrid felt unfamiliar laughter burst from her mouth. She shook her head, trying to stop the laughter but when she looked at Hiccup, all she saw was a rather infectious smile. It was crooked, charming and dorky despite his blue coat, dirty face and nicked ear. Her face then turned red and she finally calmed down and cleared her throat.

"Aura Lee, Aura Lee," Toothless started to sing. They looked at him with confusion but soon turned to scowls when the lyrics continued. "Maid with golden hair, sunshine came 'long with thee an' swallows in the air."i

Both blushing profusely at his inference, Hiccup was the one to bounce quickly at Toothless's jibe.

"That's not even her name." Hiccup flatly stated.

"I don't think you've denied the rest, neither."

Astrid only shook her head at the boys' antics before finally looked at Hiccup.

"I really have to go." She informed. She glanced once more at Hiccup, gave him a small, shy smile before rushing off. Toothless approached him from behind, sending a suggestive look with his eyes. Hiccup caught it and glared at him.

"What're you looking at?"

00000

Astrid was checking the axel of the wagon when she noticed someone approaching. She looked up and saw Snotlout. She exhaled, begrudgingly and put on her best fake smile for him. She walked around the cart and wiped her hands on a rag from the mud she had collected as she worked on the axel.

"Hey Snotlout," She greeted. Snotlout smiled, leaned towards her and pressed a kiss on her cheek. She watched him pull away and pull something from behind his back. It was a single, weed-like flower. Two of its petals had fallen off but he still offered it to him.

"For you, Babe." He tried to swoon. He waggled his eyebrows goofily. Astrid kept her smile and reached for the weedy, limpy plant. It nearly crushed in her grasp.

"Um…thank you, 'Lout." She praised. Snotlout smirked with confidence.

"So…McClellen is havin' us move towards Maryland." Snotlout informed. He stepped to be next to her and slung an arm around her shoulder. "'Bout time too, the lads here are still depressed after our retreat from the Peninsula and Bull Run."

"What're the Rebs doing across the Potomac?" Astrid questioned. Snotlout shrugged.

"No clue babe, but listen, I managed to talk our surgeon into lettin' you come with us." Snotlout stated.

"Come with you?" Astrid asked, baffled.

"Yeah, you know, you make a pretty good nurse." Snotlout flirted. "Good lookin', too."

"You just told me two hours ago that girls should be home."

"Eh, I was a bit…un-myself." Snotlout excused himself. "Useless was tryna start something and well…I'da deck him if I hadn't heard of your visit."

"Hiccup trying to fight you?" Astrid asked, incredulously. She shrugged off his beefy arm and Snotlout nodded. Astrid scoffed but then pretended to even believe that bloody lie. "He's getting gutsy."

"Ah, all for show." Snotlout responded. "Once we catch those Rebs again, he'll duck behind the best boulder out there."

Astrid only looked over to see Toothless and Hiccup walking passed the rows of tents. They were engaged in some conversation as if Toothless didn't try to kill him an hour before. Hiccup was dressed in his uniform, musket on his shoulder as he flailed his free hand about just like he always did when he told a story. For some reason, she could imagine him falling to the ground from a shell that explodes nearby, but completely dive and wait out the battle…like a coward?

She couldn't exactly see it.

00000

September 16th, 1862.

Sharpsburg (Antietam Creek), Maryland.

General McClellan and his army, the Army of the Potomac, has moved out of Washington on September 7th in pursuit of General Lee's army. On September 13th, the Army of the Potomac camped out in Frederick, Maryland, north from the Federal capitol. Two soldiers from the Union army discovers a dispatch on the ground, wrapped around three cigars. The dispatch revealed General Lee's plan of action, the division of the Confederate Army. One Confederate army headed towards Hagerstown, Maryland while another portion marches behind the South Mountain which is west of Frederick, Maryland. General McClellan uses this intelligence to his advantage and orders his army to pursue the Confederates.

The Irish Brigade along with the rest of the 2nd corps are ordered towards South Mountain with General McClellan and General Burnside. Another Union corps heads towards Harper's Ferry, Virginia (now West Virginia), which is where the Shenandoah River and Potomac River converge and was the sight of John Brown's infamous raid in 1859, to attack the other portion of the Confederate Army. McClellan's men clashes with the grey at South Mountain and the Irish Brigade chases the rear guard of the rebel army, eastward, all the way to Sharpsburg, Maryland. The grey has the high ground and waits for reinforcements from Harpers' Ferry, south of Sharpsburg, and Hagerstown, Maryland. Burnside arrives at Antietam and both armies prepare for battle.

00000

The surgeon had relieved Astrid for the night. It was as if he knew that tomorrow would be a long, harsh day and they would need their sleep. Astrid wondered around the camp until she found the familiar campsite of her childhood friends.

Gobber was telling the story about how he lost his arm.

"He looked at me straight in the eye, "Prepare to die" says 'e!" Gobber lifted his arm that held his mug of coffee. "He lifts his pistol an' at the last minute, I move t'right. The bullet cleaned through me arm instead o' me chest. So I drew me own an' fire right there, poor lout drops dead in front o' me."

Everyone seemed at awe with Gobber's fiery tale.

"Wouldn't it be…crazy to think that your lost arm could still be in control, like-"

Astrid ignored the gruesome comments. A lost limb was a lost limb, she'd seen many amputations and mangled body parts. It took a lot of morphine and a lot of rags to ease the struggling, only by a little bit. Snotlout abruptly barked.

"I'm so angry right now," He growled as he took a sip of his bitter coffee. He pointed at Gobber. "I'll avenge your beautiful hand and I'll lick every Reb's ass from here to Richmond!"

Astrid noticed Hiccup get up and walk off, she was ready to go after him. Snotlout had looked up from his dinner.

"Oh hey, babe. Comin' to join us?"

She shook her head and joined the mess, not entirely present with the traded tales of combat experience. Her mind was, against her will, focused on Henry Haddock for the remainder of the evening. She caught herself twice, scowling at herself for the growing fondness she had for that boy. As Tuffnut told his valiant attack on two Rebs who tried to turned a cannon on them at Malvern Hill, there was a long still moment where Astrid pictured Hiccup aiming his musket, face smoggy and blood splattered on his fine, wool jacket, pulling the trigger while rapid bangs and clangs sounded all around him.

These stories went on for a long time, Astrid mildly enraptured by the valor of these men. Though it was often that soldiers would exaggerate to defend their heroism, the heroism was still there in some form. These were men repeatedly put their lives on the line for the preservation of their nation. Regardless of past contempt, every man she saw in this camp was a brave man. There was no way to repay them for their sacrifice.

000000

Hiccup just sat by a tree, back set against it. His eyes observing the quiet campsite. There was soft music from different parts, men were laughing and talking. Some were walking around, taking in the beautiful night. Some were standing, pointing out to trees yonder from them, predicting the outcome of the battle tomorrow.

Battle. Tomorrow.

There was no denying it. General Lee has his entire Army of Virginia not too far from them, he could see the fires from the enemy camp, and nearly the entire Army of Potomac was here to meet him. Hiccup had this eerie feeling to his gut. How many boys will be sent to the front line? Who will be sent to the front line? How many will die? How many be wounded? Would he even see tomorrow night?

"You Yanks oughtta be scared, Ol' Bobby Lee's gonna lick you boys good tomorrow."

Hiccup didn't even look at Toothless as the boy sat down beside him. It turned out, Toothless was the same age as him.

"It'll be one helluva a fight." Hiccup sighed as he continued to stare at the fires.

"Wish I could be a part of it." Toothless said, tugging at a blade of grass.

"I've been wondering…you Rebs have a commander named "Stonewall" Jackson."

Toothless nodded.

"Yup and he's sure as hell's out there." He pointed.

"Why do you call him "Stonewall"?"

"Our army was fightin' you Yanks out in Bull Run. Someone from the front line noticed General Jackson standing while shell and canister fired right at us. They shouted "There's Jackson standin' like a stonewall!" Toothless said. "The name just stuck, we won Bull Run because of him…and because you Yanks can't shoot for spit."

"I shot you didn't I?" Hiccup countered. Toothless only shook his head.

"Lucky shot." He stated. Hiccup chuckled. The boys were silent for a while. "I do have to ask you somethin' though, Yank."

"Fire away." Hiccup tried to pun from their earlier subject. Toothless chuckled.

"You ain't that funny."

Hiccup shrugged.

"Humor doesn't really run in my family."

Toothless smirked for a bit but it faltered as he looked onwards towards the Confederate camp.

"Why exactly are you fightin' this war?" Toothless asked. "For the slaves or for preservin' yer Union?"

Hiccup thought for a moment. He bit his lip but then answered truthfully.

"I…my Dad made me enlist." Hiccup started with. He pointed towards the campsite of his regiment. "He's the captain of my battalion."

"Uh-huh."

"…I never really thought about it, why I'm exactly here. Why I'm fighting this war. It was mostly so my Dad doesn't scowl at me for the rest of my life…like someone skimped on the meat of his sandwich." Hiccup cleared his throat and started to impersonate a thick, Irish accent. "Excuse me barmaid, I'm afraid yeh brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts an' glory on the side. This here! This is a talkin' Fishbone!"

Toothless was now cackling.

"Ha, now that was funny!" He hooted with glee. Hiccup only smiled, ruefully. Toothless cleared his throat and looked at Hiccup.

"I dunno," Hiccup said. "It feels like there was so many reasons for fightin' this war. Preservation, abolition, boredom, family tradition, patriotism...I'm afraid I dunno exactly why I'm fightin'. Why're you fighting this war?"

"Well, fought I guess if you want to be technical." Toothless corrected, Hiccup gave a small, appreciative smile. "Ma and Pa both died from sickness when I was just a boy. I was taken to an orphanage, they treated me like spit. Once the war rolled 'round, I was just three weeks shy of 18 and well, signed up, just to get out of that hell hole….looks like I marched right into another one."

Hiccup frowned, apologetically. Toothless seemed to have a thinking expression etched into his face. He licked his dry lips and looked at the Union soldier.

"Yous know Yank, I never understood it…we never meant to do any harm when we left the Union, why does your government refuse to let us live the way we live?" Toothless asked.

"By popular belief, the Union needs to include all the states." Hiccup answered. He braced for some southerner refutation, yet, Toothless spat into the ground.

"Well, you bluecoats have to work harder to git us to believe your reasoning." He announced. Hiccup licked his own lips and stared on at the enemy camp, thousands of thoughts racing across his mind…a lot of 'what ifs' plagued him.

"We'll see what happens tomorrow, Reb." Hiccup replied as if trying to supply an ambiguous answer to soften his own worries about tomorrow. There was silence again but Hiccup broke the silence. He stood up and stretched his sore limbs. "I better head on to bed."

Toothless only nodded and Hiccup walked passed him, patting his shoulder. Then, the former rebel turned his head to regard Hiccup.

"Hey Yank," Hiccup looked at him, inquisitive and stopped walking. "My army is just as strong as yers…yous be careful tomorrow, ya hear?"

Hiccup only gave a curt nod and a fond smile.

To be continued.

**Please, Click that Button. **

i "Aura Lee", a song that was written in 1861 and became a known American Civil War song, sung on both sides. Lyrics were written by W.W Fosdick and melody was written by George R. Poulton. Elvis Presley's "Love Me Tender" contains the melody.


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